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" CHAPTER IX. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. We were only—les autres. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. “Where am I?” he muttered. “My mom is making duck. 150 “Homely. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. ” They left the restaurant just as the rain slowed to a dull trickle, the fury of the storm exhausted, having left mirror puddles in its wake. It took the relatives of the Vorsack family a few more days to file their own. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. But this was a vicomte’s sister.

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